Engraved
by The Flame and Hawk's Eye
Summary: After being captured by an unknown enemy, Edward and Hawkeye enter a desperate struggle to stay alive. During that time, however, Edward also finds where the Flame Alchemist keeps his legendary notes, and discovers just how strong the bond between a certain superior and his subordinate is...
1. Chapter 1

**A/N:** _I know that it seems like I'm starting a lot of stories and not finishing them, but I promise that I am working diligently on them (between studying, of course). I wrote this as a prompt I received when I asked for suggestions to what I should do for reaching 999 followers on Tumblr. Thus, this fic was born! I'll respond to reviews for my other fics very soon, and promise to update either Ignite, Brilliance, or Like Family next. Thank you and hope you enjoy!_

* * *

It had been five days since they were taken. What started out as an organized recon mission quickly turned into a disaster. The criminals they were after somehow knew about the mission, and they had come prepared. It seemed that only he and Hawkeye were the ones captured, and strangely, the thought comforted Edward. He knew that, at the very least, they had people that were hellbent on finding the two of them…

When he had awoken after being knocked out, Edward discovered that they had at least been 'smart' enough to remove his arm. And without anything within reach that could be used to draw a transmutation circle, he was essentially useless.

Gritting his teeth agitatedly, Edward twisted his wrist around in his shackles. After working at it for the last day and a half, he was finally able to move it more freely. In time, he figured, he would be able to draw enough blood and sweat to slip his wrist through. And when it came time to do that, those bastards that took them would have hell to pay…

He looked up again to check on Hawkeye, seeing if she had moved at all. Instead she remained seated in the same position he had last seen her in, her head bowed and her face hidden beneath her unkempt golden hair. They had taken her a few times and always brought her back completely exhausted and worn down. The last time she came back she could hardly stand, barely managing to stumble into the corner she had chosen to occupy.

And each time her words and responses grew shorter and more drawn out, to the point where it would take minutes for her to reply to a simple 'yes' or 'no' question.

Edward didn't know what they did to her. All he knew was that he had not been called on at all… and that she had taken care not to turn her back to him. He had voiced that observation once and Hawkeye told him to 'not think too much into it' causing him to assume the worst - that whatever they were doing to her, it was double. Part for her and part for him.

Catching a glint of red out of the corner of his eyes, he saw a small puddle of blood seeping out around her. His eyes widened as it continued to grow bigger and bigger…

"Hey Hawkeye," he called in the hopes that he could get her attention. "Hawkeye!" When she did not stir, he began to grow anxious. Twisting his wrists in his shackles again, he cried her name with more desperation. "Hawkeye!"

When she shifted, he felt his heart leap in his chest. He prepared himself to receive an answer from her, though it never came. Instead, she swayed uneasily before collapsing onto her side.

"Hawkeye!"

Twisting against his restraints fore forcibly, Edward was at last able to slip his wrist out of his shackle. His legs felt like jelly after having been seated for days on end, but that would not stop him. Stumbling and staggering over to her, he collapsed by her side and put a hand on her shoulder. "Come on, Hawkeye, answer me," he pleaded as he shook her gently.

Her head lolled side to side in response, telling him that she was somewhat awake. He heard her mutter something soon after, but it was difficult to hear her.

At the very least, though, she was alive…

As relief flooded his gut, he decided to check her over in order to find the source of the blood, in the hopes that he would be able to stanch it. He didn't have to look far, however. When his eyes wandered down to her back, his stomach lurched.

The cloth of her black turtleneck was nearly disintegrated, torn to shreds by god knows what. The loose strands that were held together by thin lines of fabric clung to the perspiration and the blood that was continually seeping from the wounds that were inflicted upon her.

Deciding that her wellbeing was more important than anything else, he ripped the back of her shirt further in order to gain easier access to the cuts. His desperate teasing and tearing stopped momentarily, however, when he saw skin deep red lines that were laid out in a more uniform pattern. As his eyes followed them, down her back to the apex of one of the curved lines, his heart sprang with recognition.

There, in the center of her lower back, was the telltale red salamander of Flame Alchemy…

Before his mind could even begin to process what that would mean, the Lieutenant shifted and gasped, clawing at the cement floor as she began to writhe with pain.

"Hawkeye," he gasped as he put his hand on her untouched shoulder. "It's me—"

"Edward-," she breathed as she tried to push herself up onto one hand and knees, keeping her other arm protectively crossed over her chest in order to keep her shirt secured to her body. When she got halfway up, however, her arm buckled and she crashed back down onto the stone floor.

"Hey," Edward yelped as he scrambled around to her head, "Are you—"

"That blanket…" she wheezed as she raised her shaking arm and pointed at the corner of the small cell, "Bring it here… Please…"

Edward obediently staggered over to the blanket they had provided her and grabbed at it until he at last managed to grip it. When he turned back to her, she was already pushing herself up again. "Lieutenant," he began as he draped the scrubby old blanket over her shoulders, "What—"

"It's nothing," she panted as she pulled the blanket more tightly to her body and leaned back against the wall. "It's… nothing."

Realizing that she meant the markings on her back, Edward shifted around so that he was in front of her. Putting his hand on her shoulder, he muttered, "I'm not concerned about that right now. What I'm more concerned about is your condition." Moving his flesh hand up, he pressed it against her forehead and instantly had to draw it back, surprised by how warm she felt. Pressing it against her sweat-drenched forehead again, he said, "You're burning up."

"Have been… for a while," she breathed as she leaned her head back against the cement wall and closed her eyes, "Must be an infection…"

"Then we need to tell them," Edward stated. "Because we'd be dead otherwise. They're keeping us alive for something. If we tell them, then they'll treat you."

She rolled her head side to side. "Not for long," Hawkeye quietly admitted. "They found what they were looking for... Edward. Our lives now hang in the balance.

"But," she murmured as she removed the hand she had crossed over her chest before and held it out to him, "You can escape." When she opened her hand, he caught the glint of metal. Moving forward, he found that it was a silver key. "A spare," she explained, "That was on one of the men… Use it to unlock the door.

"All I ask," she continued as she closed her eyes again, "Is that you destroy what you saw on my back before you leave me here. That will… will assure that you will not be fol—"

"No way," Edward snapped, cutting her off. "I'm not leaving you behind."

"You have to," she weakly argued. "I'm only dead weight at this point. Leave me and find the Colonel. He'll know what to do…"

"I refuse," he countered. "I refuse to leave you here to die. The way I see it, there are only two options: You and I stay here until they decide to come back, or the two of us try to escape. Either way, we aren't splitting up." When she opened her mouth to counter again, he rose to his feet and braced his knees. "Besides," he added as he thrust his thumb toward himself, "According to the military bylaws, I'm still a Major and you're still a Lieutenant. And without the Colonel here, you're required to follow the command of the next highest in rank."

Her eyes snapped open and she looked up at him in surprise, and then shook her head and sighed. Casting her glare down at the floor, she gripped the blanket tighter to herself and said, "Edward, I'm giving you one final warning... Not as a lesser ranking officer but as a friend. Please listen to me and—"

"Sorry, but that's something I can't do," he said as he shook his head. "Because I can't take orders from a subordinate officer." Extending his hand toward her, he said, "But I'll gladly reiterate my orders from before… And promise that one way or another, we're both going to get out of here."

She paused for a moment, her brown eyes holding his in silent debate. He had seen her play this game with Mustang before, often times with the latter losing. But this time it would be her that would throw in the towel.

"Besides," he added, "Don't you want to see the look on Mustang's face when we show up on Central's doorstep?"

Her eyes faltered and the silent debate was over. Edward knew that appealing to her using Mustang would work. Between that and his faux 'orders,' he knew she would essentially crumble.

She sighed heavily. "Alright, but…," she said as her eyes steeled and she extended a hand toward him, "If there is a time where you must leave me, I want you to promise me that you will destroy what you saw on my back and leave me behind."

This time he faltered, his knees beginning to weaken again at the very thought.

"Promise me."

Swallowing the lump in his throat, he internally decided that if agreeing to her demand was what it would take, then he would do so that they both would escape. Grasping her hand with his, he agreed to her conditions, silently concluding that there was no other option to be had.

* * *

After juggling Hawkeye and the key to the door to their cell, Edward felt as if his energy were nearly spent. Having only one arm made the situation of carrying her on his back all the more difficult. He was thankful, at least, that the direction he took through the labyrinth of stone walls and dark corridors was devoid of any of the men that had taken them.. though it was also devoid of any windows or doors as well. During his time there he had only seen three different faces, suggesting to him that it was a small-scale operation. While it was good that they were few in number, Edward knew that it also meant that they would be harder to track. It made sense that Mustang hadn't found them yet…

When he heard a voice, Edward froze; pressing his side against the wall as he strained to listen. Easing his way forward and tightening his grip on Hawkeye's wrists as they hugged around his neck, he paused near the corner and focused this senses on what was just around it.

From what he could tell, there were two men around the corner from them. Their voices were not carrying, suggesting that they were stationary. Taking a deep breath and quietly exhaling, he reminded himself to use the rest of his senses.

A moment later a cold draft wafted around the corner and past them, sending a shiver up Edward's spine. He heard one of the men scoff shortly thereafter, complaining about the cold leaking through the door.

Door…

So there was a door just beyond that corner. If he could distract them somehow, then they should be able to get through it and outdoors…

Looking around him, he saw that there was a piece of a brick lying on the ground. Bending at his knees, he muttered to Hawkeye to hold on as he let go of her wrists. Scooping it up, he slowly rose back to his feet and inched over to the corner. After taking a deep breath, he looked around it to see the men conversing with each other and between them… the door.

Drawing back, Edward glanced down the hallway to see another corridor beyond them. If he could angle it right, he could possibly cause enough noise to draw one or both of them away. Tossing it up and down a few times in his hand, he determined that the distance was enough where if they both ran, he'd be able to get around quickly enough to reach the door. And if only one of them went, he still liked to imagine that he could take the one that remained behind quickly enough to turn around and subdue the other one.

After making up his mind, he gripped the rock tightly and whispered his plan to Hawkeye, urging her to brace herself in the event that he'd have to put her down to take care of the guards. When his explanation earned a feeble nod from her, he decided to move forward with his idea. Raising his hand up, he measured the distance once more before lobbing it toward the second hallway.

"Hey!"

Slinking back to conceal himself in the darkness, Edward shrunk against the wall and held his breath as the sound of two pairs of boots thundered toward them. Then, he saw the two men rush past them without a glance in any other direction.

Without a moment's hesitation, he whipped around the corner and sprinted toward the door, his hand grasping Hawkeye's wrists with a death-like grip. Skidding to a stop in front of it, he threw one quick glance over his shoulder to make sure they were gone, and then quickly began to unlatch the door. Pulling it open, he leapt outside and pushed it closed behind him, moments later hearing the satisfying sound of it latching itself closed. A few moments later a sharp tingle shot up through his bare feet and distributed throughout the rest of his body.

A strong gust of icy wind whipped past them, forcing Edward to turn toward the outside and see that it was snowing heavily, with mounds already beginning to build up in the field that was sprawled out before them.

He felt Hawkeye tremble against his back, but he knew that if they went back inside both of them were as good as dead. He had made a promise, though, that they would get out alive. That they would see the smug expression on the Colonel's face when they showed up at the front door of Central Command.

His legs trembled as another burst of cold air blew past them, showering them with flakes of snow. There was no other option now. They had to keep moving forward because… Because he promised…

Making sure that his grip and Hawkeye's was adequate, he leapt forward and began to run, not once looking back over his shoulder…

* * *

As soon as they had crossed the field and entered the dark and densely wooded forest on the other side, a round of gunshots could be heard echoing throughout the valley. Gripping Hawkeye's wrists tighter, he quickened his pace and ignored his muscles as they screamed in agony from his relative lack of use over the past week.

When he heard a gunshot that seemed relatively close to them, he changed direction and ducked beneath a low hanging branch. Another gunshot. This time he could feel the air around them shift, the bullet missing them by inches. He heard a voice calling for them to stop, but he refused to.

He swore and dove behind another tree as a third shot buried itself into the wood. As he tried to catch himself, the ground beneath him gave and they fell. His face slammed into a pile of snow, and then was reexposed to the cold air surrounding them again and again. It took him a few moments to realize that they were tumbling down a hill. Before he could brace them, they hit the bottom, eliciting as surprised gasp from Hawkeye and himself.

He rolled once again, thankful that throughout the entire ordeal she had managed to hang on. But just as he was about to lift her and himself, a sharp pain erupted through his flesh leg. With a loud yelp, he crumbled into a heap and instinctively let go of Hawkeye's wrists, reaching down toward his fractured leg.

Realization hit him like a freight train. They were trapped with the lone gunman standing at the top of the hill. His leg was broken, his automail arm gone, and Hawkeye was unable to run for herself. He cursed again and tried to rise, producing the same result as before.

Grabbing a fistful of snow, he shuddered as the cold began to prick and poke at his metallic joints, slowly moving up and through his body. The feeling wouldn't last long, however.

When he heard the crunch of snow beneath a pair of boots, he gulped and turned his head to find a pair of brown eyes watching him, causing his heart to drop. He had promised… Promised that they would make it out. Promised that he would destroy what he had seen on her back. Promised that they'd reach the Colonel again.

All of those promises were now broken…

He could clearly see the sadness reflected in her eyes. She too knew that it was the end of the road.

The crunch of the boots on the crisp white snow had grown louder, and he knew that they had made it to the bottom of the hill. Using what little of his strength he had left, he pushed himself upward and angled his body so that he was partially hiding the Lieutenant behind him. After all, giving her a few additional moments of life was the least he could do…

Steeling himself, he paused, hearing the sound of the footsteps stop next to them. In one last act of defiance, he willed himself to look their captor in the eye. Turning toward him, he stared the man, and the barrel of the gun, down.

He felt tears pricking the corners of his eyes, but he refused to give the man the satisfaction of seeing them, despite how difficult it was to hold them back. It was the end of the line. There would be no rescue. There would be no light. Alphonse would be left to wonder why, alone in the world as he struggled to retrieve his own body, his only brother leaving him behind…

When the man, steel-faced and unwavering, clicked off the safety, Edward bowed his head and closed his eyes, bracing for the inevitable impact.

A single gunshot tore through the darkness, plunging the rest of the wood into a cold, dead silence.


	2. Chapter 2

The thought had never crossed Edward's mind: What it felt like to be dying.

And yet there he was, lying sprawled out on the snowy forest floor with his flesh hand gripping the fresh, draining wound on his side. He could feel the blood pooling on the earth beneath him, saturating the mound of powder; no doubt turning it a deep crimson. His ears were still ringing from the shot, deafening him to the rest of their surroundings.

He had expected it to be instantaneous, like a light being snuffed out; his consciousness there one moment and then gone the next. And yet he still remained…

The shot had clearly missed its mark, but for reasons unbeknownst to him. Almost instantaneously after it had rung out, he had heard a muffled thud next to him that accompanied the roaring pain in his side. But his reeling mind instead turned itself toward the amplified the sound of the bullet's shell casing burying itself into the snow beside him.

He willed himself to verify that fact. When his head lolled toward it, he was surprised to see the man that had been standing above him moments before lying beside him, remaining eerily still.

Edward blinked, trying to process the meaning behind his discovery. As far as he knew, he had only heard the report of one gun, not two. So how had it been possible that the man had fallen victim to it as well…?

One thing was certain, however. He hadn't heard a second shot, meaning that Hawkeye was safe. And if that were the case, then there was still a chance of making it out of there alive. All he needed, he decided as he closed his eyes and balled his flesh hand into a fist, was to stand up and—

Edward's thoughts were interrupted when a dark shadow loomed over him. Rolling his head back and opening his eyes, he looked up at it and subsequently felt his heart drop into his stomach.

The man standing above him wore a dark mask, large goggles concealing the rest of his face. He uttered something through his mask and slowly began to bend down toward Edward, but by that point something else caught his attention.

Seeing another dark shape out of the corner of his eye, Edward's head whipped around to find a cloaked being crouched down next to Hawkeye, its gloved hand reaching toward her. Letting loose the sound that had been building at the back of his throat, Edward lunged forward and swung at the unknown, catching him on his cheek. When the man recoiled, Edward charged again but was stopped when the masked man planted his hands on his shoulders and held him back.

Twisting around, Edward swung at the masked man and connected with his jaw, driving him back and away from them. He could feel the adrenaline coursing through his veins, giving him the energy he desperately needed to fight back again as his promise to Hawkeye returned to the forefront of his mind. Out of the corner of his eye he saw his assailant move toward him again. Whirling around, he lunged himself upward and prepared himself to fight again, forgetting about the fracture in his leg. When he was reminded by the piercing pain that shot up through his body, he let out a yelp as his legs gave out beneath him.

Before he hit the ground, however, his assailant caught him and yelled something, his words more distinguishable than before. "Chief!"

Instantly recognizing the tone, he looked up to see Havoc rip off his face cover and goggles. "Chief," Havoc gasped again as he eased Edward down onto the ground, "It's us. You're safe."

"It's…" Edward slowly tapered off as a wave of stars exploded in his vision, the shock to his system finally catching up with him. "It's…" He blinked a few times, trying to keep his thoughts straight.

Havoc was there… So that must have meant that…

He languidly turned his head to the side, seeing the same dark shape bent over Hawkeye. Edward blinked again until the dark shape became more defined, realizing that it too was familiar. He watched as it combed over Hawkeye, looking for her injuries and the source of the blood that stained the snow beneath her. Then he saw it move the blanket back, revealing the bottom of the intricate red array that was engraved on her back.

The man was quick to cover her injuries and back, swiveling its head back and forth to see if anyone saw its action. Havoc may not have… But Edward had.

When it turned toward him, Edward was able to make out is face more clearly. Colonel Roy Mustang: the owner of the array's secrets. Mustang's eyes widened when he realized Edward had seen him.

But before Edward could accost him, the darkness that had slowly been advancing from the corners of his vision began to bleed into his line of sight as his breaths began to slow. Feeling his entire body grow limp, Edward began to realize that it was succumbing to the blood loss he had sustained. Now in the hands of familiars, however, he finally allowed himself to surrender to it, vowing that when he woke up he would confront Mustang once and for all about the secrets of Flame Alchemy.

* * *

After a long and heated argument with the nurses and attending doctors, Roy Mustang was at last able to gain access to one of his subordinates. Following anxiously after the doctor, Roy was shown the door to the room where Riza was situated. When he received an affirmative nod from the doctor, he tapped his fist against the door and paused to listen. Once he heard Riza's voice, he turned the door handle and slowly pushed the door open, easing his way into the room.

She was lying on her side facing him, one arm stretched outward in front of her with an IV attached, delivering the fluids she desperately needed to her veins.

When she saw him, she pushed herself up onto her elbow and shot him a faint smile.

Takin a few steps toward her, he slowly asked, "How are you feeling?"

"I'm feeling… alright," she admitted. "They said that aside from the fever and the cuts, there isn't anything else that needs immediate attention," Riza replied as she eased herself up slowly and leaned back against her pillows, though not without letting a small hiss of pain escape her lips. When Roy made a move to help her, she shook her head and murmured, "It's fine. I'm not putting much pressure on my lower back. The movement just tugged at the stitches."

Roy reluctantly drew his hand back and clenched his jaw, still not completely satisfied by the way her face still twisted with discomfort.

No doubt seeing this, she quickly changed the subject by asking, "How is Edward?"

"…As good as he could be, I guess," Roy admitted half-heartedly as he sank back down into the chair beside her bed and ran his fingers through his hair. "They said the bullet went straight through him and didn't hit anything major. His leg is definitely broken and the prolonged exposure of his automail ports to the cold left him frostbitten around the steel plating. But despite all that, they said he would make a full recovery. I haven't been able to see him yet, but I'll take their word for it."

"I see," Riza murmured as she looked down at her bed sheets and gripped them in her fists. After a few moments of thought, she shook her head and said, "I shouldn't have let him talk me into it. I should have just convinced him to leave me behind. He would have moved faster without me."

"Don't say that," Roy chided her as she continued to stare down at her fists. "You must never give up on your life, Riza." She twitched when he murmured her name, an utterance reserved for the most serious of times.

"And besides," he added, "You know his character. He's never one to leave someone behind."

Riza sighed. "I know, Roy. I just… I thought he would have considered his own life and Alphonse's and how important it is that the two of them go on to recover their bodies. If Edward had died in there, there is no telling what could have happened to Alphonse."

"I understand," Roy said as he shook his head, "But you also need to realize that Edward's plan always includes everyone."

She nodded indolently. "I know. And I fear that may one day be his downfall…"

"Riza," he gently scolded her as she looked up at him. "You can't condemn him for not leaving you behind. He did what he decided was best for both of you."

He could tell by the way she twisted her lip that she knew he was right; that there was no point in arguing with him.

"I know, sir," she replied, driving them back toward their formalities. "I just can't help but think of their words and their motives. They were willing to kill Edward to get what they wanted. And now I fear they have it." Gripping the edges of her blanket, she pulled it tighter to her body and shuddered. "I just don't even know where to begin…"

"You don't have to tell me now," Roy murmured as he pushed a loose strand of hair that was clinging to her lip behind her ear.

"No," Riza said as she shook her head, "The details are fresher now than they will be later. If I wait, I might lose some important elements."

Roy sighed and languidly nodded. "But if you feel the need to stop, then I want you to stop, alright?"

Riza dipped her head before looking him in the eye. "Yes, sir."

* * *

 _The sudden_ crack _of a hand across her face brought Riza back into a conversation she had mentally left minutes before, causing stars to erupt in her vision as the pain shot across her face and down her neck. After staring at the floor in a daze for a few moments, she willed herself to look up at the man responsible, narrowing her eyes as she did so._

 _The burly man seemed unfazed by her glare, laughing loudly instead when she made eye contact with him. Leaning forward and stopping inches in front of her nose, he sneered, "Welcome back, Lieutenant Hawkeye."_

 _Refusing to be intimidated by him, she droned, "Thank you. I hope I wasn't gone too long."_

" _Far too long, I'm afraid," he replied with the same enthusiasm. Straightening himself, he clasped his hands behind his back and took a step back. "Because while you were in your own little world, we were left here to ask questions to a shell."_

 _She blinked and looked past his shoulder, focusing on the wall behind him as she remained silent, idly noting to herself that her lip had been split open. It was the same questions every time, and every time she gave the same reply: An "I have no knowledge on that matter" and silence after that. She had gotten so tired of it that she resorted to her withdrawal training, closing herself off to them entirely as she allowed her mind to wander away from them._

" _I admire your resilience, Lieutenant Hawkeye," the man admitted as he took a step to the side, keeping his eyes glued to her, "It seems your training has paid off."_

 _She straightened herself up and replied, "You're right. The military has provided me with the the training needed to endure in a situation such as this."_

" _Indeed," he said as he took another step around her, "But for how long?"_

" _You've been rationing the food allotted for the two of you unevenly, giving more to the boy than to yourself. You've graciously offered to the boy's place every time we call for you. What is it," he asked as he bent at the waist and uttered in her ear, "Are you waiting for?"_

" _I think you know," she replied dispassionately. "But that's beside the point. I have mainly based my decisions on the wellbeing of the boy."_

" _By starving yourself? How noble," he sneered. "All you are doing is prolonging his life beyond yours. As soon as we are finished with you, we will simply move onto him."_

 _Riza's face darkened when he mentioned Edward, but rather than give him the satisfaction of a crude response, she simply said, "The human body is able to survive three weeks without food."_

 _Their captor frowned, likely not fond of her lack of response to his threats. "If you think you're getting out of here alive in that time, you are sorely mistaken," he snarled as he slowly pulled away from her. "We have secured a location so remote that even Mustang and his merry band of dogs cannot locate the two of you. The only way he will find it is if he responds to our request for his notes."_

 _She chose to remain silent, denying him the satisfaction he would get from trying to tear her down again._

" _With you being closest to the Colonel, I'm sure you've picked up a few details pertaining to his research." Riza remained rigid and unyielding, refusing to confirm or deny any connection to Flame Alchemy. "Although, I do suppose the boy could be another option."_

" _The boy won't know anything," she muttered crudely as she licked the blood off her lips._

" _Really," the man asked as he raised a dubious brow. "Because I think that boy might know a thing or two about Flame Alchemy, seeing that he_ is _the Fullmetal Alchemist."_

" _The Colonel keeps his secrets locked away and shares them with no one, especially other alchemists," Riza deadpanned. "Edward is a skilled alchemist, but one that still would not have access to those secrets."_

" _But he could certainly figure them out."_

 _Despite her best to try and remain impassive, Riza's eyes widened._

 _Seeing her falter, their captor grinned. "The boy is intelligent enough. If… 'prompted,' I'm sure he could figure them out."_

 _Realizing that she had let her wall fracture, she dropped her unflappable demeanor and growled, "He won't be able to help you."_

" _Really," he asked. "Well, I'd like to test that theory." The ringleader then grabbed her bicep and lifted her off the chair. Turning her roughly, he pushed her toward the door and added, "I think I'll do a little exchange. See if we can't get him to say something on the matter."_

 _Jerking away from him, Riza turned around and slammed her knee into his groin, eliciting a surprised grunt from the man. Another kick found his stomach, causing him to double over from the pain. Before she could retract her foot, however, he grabbed it and jerked it toward him, causing her to lose her footing and slam down onto the ground. When she tried to roll away he bent over and gripped her arm, dragging her across the concrete floor before lifting her up and pinning her against the wall._

" _Ruffled your feathers didn't I, Hawkeye," he purred in her ear as she tried to catch her breath. "Well, I—" He stopped and pulled away from her with a small gasp._

 _She tensed when she felt him hook his finger on the bottom of her shirt and tug it upward, just enough to reveal the lower half of her back. A low whistle escaped his lips before he leaned back and whispered, "Well now, what have we here…"_

* * *

"I'm sorry, sir," she uttered as she huddled into her blanket. "I fought against him but he overpowered me... He… He saw everything. The entire array…"

"Lieutenant," he breathed as he reached forward to brush her fringe from her eyes. "There was nothing you could do…"

Riza jerked her head away from his hand and looked down and away from him. "No, there was. I shouldn't have let my guard down like that, shouldn't have tried to fight back that way. If I had instead made myself more appealing for further questioning, then he wouldn't have needed to resort to using Edward against me."

"You were afraid," he whispered in protest. "You were fighting in defense of Edward and yourself."

"And I would fight for him all over again," she replied softly. "Just without foolishly letting my guard down."

Roy swallowed the lump in his throat, knowing what she was slowly wandering back to. "Riza…"

"I have to finish," she said as she shook her head. "You need to know the rest, Roy."

He pursed his lips together and braced himself, knowing that what would follow would be far from pleasant. But just like him, when she used his first name he knew that she was serious and intended to follow through with whatever she had set her mind on. After enduring her stare, he hastily nodded his head and said, "Okay, you may continue. But only under the same condition that you stop if it becomes too difficult."

She nodded and closed her eyes for a moment, taking a deep breath in order to calm herself. After opening her eyes again, she said, "He called a second man in to help him…"

* * *

" _This is it," the ringleader hissed as he brushed his fingers over the array. "This is the secret to Flame Alchemy…" Stepping around the table, he leaned over so that his face was inches from hers and said, "And here it was this whole time._

" _How much did Mustang pay you to hide it there? Or was this a more," he continued as he brushed the back of his finger over her cheek, "Scandalous exchange."_

 _Riza pursed her lips together and fought back the urge to bite his finger off, reminding herself that his rotten exterior matched his interior and would likely leave a bitter taste in her mouth. She instead opted to turn her head away and rest it against the table as one of his henchmen continued to hold her down, while another hovered around the table acting as a scribe._

 _Riza jerked around again, throwing the two latter men off. This caused the one copying down the array to hiss angrily while the one holding her reacted by slamming her back down._

" _It's no use," the scribe muttered as she heard him tear another piece of paper off of his scratchboard. "It's too detailed. We need a camera or something."_

" _If we had one," the ringleader growled, "Then we wouldn't have had you copy it down."_

" _Well," the scribe replied defensively, "What if we just… took it."_

" _Took it," the man in charge echoed back. After a few moments of contemplating it, he began to chuckle darkly. "You know what. It would make a lot of sense, wouldn't it? We would get what we want and she could get that one-way ticket to hell she's been trying so hard to receive."_

 _She heard him wander around the table again, and moments later felt a large, cracked hand on the center of her back. "Hold still, dear," he commanded as he pressed the edge of something thin and cold against her flesh. "We don't want you damaging the array too much more."_

 _Then she felt him glide the knife over her back in a skinning motion and through the top layer of her flesh._

* * *

"After that I struggled until they had grown tired of holding me. Why they didn't kill me then, I'll never know. I could assume that it was the sick satisfaction of watching me struggle. But all I knew after that was that I was lifted off of the table and was made to walk back to the holding cell Edward and I shared to keep me contained while they prepped themselves for another round.

"That's where they made their fatal flaw," she continued as she closed her eyes. "Because they failed to realize I took a key they had placed on the table. From there it was a matter of giving it to Edward to fuel his escape. Only then, as you know, he chose a plan different from the one I formulated." Opening her eyes again, she added, "From there it was just a matter of Edward getting us outside to where we eventually encountered the team."

And from that point on, Roy knew the rest of the story. Finding the pair in their gun sights just before they ducked into the forest while being pursued by one of their captors. Racing against the clock to reach them before the enemy delivered the fatal blow. Havoc putting a bullet in the hostile a millisecond before his gun went off. Although that rapid succession proved to be beneficial, there was still the fact that the enemy's gun went off and hit Edward in a critical area.

Looking back up at Riza, he saw her eyes grow distant and unfocused as she thought back to those moments, hardening herself to the realization of how close they came to having their lives end.

Reaching forward, he put a hand on her shoulder to bring her back. "And now you two are back with us a little worse for wear."

"We are," she agreed dispassionately, "But at a great cost." Looking up at him as her hand subconsciously rose to grasp her shoulder, she added, "I know you don't want to hear this, Roy, but these scars will heal and the ink will still remain. If we want to prevent this from happening again we need to consider destroying more of it. It's the only way."

Before Roy could formulate a rebuttal, a knock on the door prevented him from following through. Looking over his shoulder, he saw a nurse standing in the doorway.

"Major Elric is awake, Colonel Mustang," she announced timidly. "The doctor has approved your request to see him."

"Thank you," Roy replied as she dipped her head and disappeared from the doorway. Turning back to Riza, he saw her watching him.

Her face softened and an infinitesimal amount of light reappeared in her eyes. "Please let me know how he's doing."

"I will," he replied cautiously as he rose to his feet, hoping that, for the time being, the subject of destroying more of the tattoo was cast aside. But just as he was about to turn away, he heard her say, "Please, Roy. We need to consider this very seriously."

Without turning back to her, for fear that she would see the dread that had crossed his face, he moved his head up and down in agreement before stepping out of the room to head toward Edward's room.

The thought of destroying more of the tattoo causing his stomach to twist and tumble uncomfortably in his gut because the memories of that day so long ago still hung fresh in his mind, the sights and smells of burning flesh forever engraved in his head. But for the time being the notion could be pushed off to the side, seeing that every single shred of evidence from before had been turned to a pile of ash.

* * *

 **A/N:** _The next chapter will focus primarily on Edward and Roy. I should also mention that this fic will be a relatively short one, probably no longer than 4 or 5 chapters. It'll explore a bit more of Edward and Riza's time after they were captured, and moments in the present. I have no intention of making a full story out of this, however, since I haven't fleshed out the villains well enough (and I have too many ongoings right now). But regardless, I hope you enjoy the next few installments of this fic! Again, thank you so much for the reviews, favorites, and follows! I'll see you next time!_

 _P.S. To those that follow any of my other fics, expect an update of_ Like Family _,_ Ignite _, or_ Expect the Unexpected _next. Thank you for your patience owo._


	3. Chapter 3

" _Colonel Mustang! Sir!"_

 _Roy tensed as a pair of soldiers jogged up behind him just as he was about to guide Riza into one of the team's vehicles. When he glanced over his shoulder at them, they both threw him a crisp salute as one of them exclaimed, "Sir, we have detained the men responsible inside their fort."_

" _Well done," he replied evenly as he turned back toward the vehicle and lowered his Lieutenant into the seat closest to Havoc. "Secure and escort them back to headquarters immediately. We'll begin questioning them upon arrival." When he did not immediately receive a confirmatory 'yes' from the pair, he cast a questioning glare back toward them to see that they had dropped their confident demeanors, and had seemingly grown uncomfortable with his request._

 _Likely seeing his quizzical stare, the uniformed men nervously stood at attention again. "Well, sir," the first one began to explain, "We were ordered to keep them where they are until you spoke to their leader first."_

 _Roy knitted his brows together and frowned. "I don't have time right now to discuss trivial matters with a terrorist," he countered. "Right now I have to focus on the wellbeing of my team."_

" _We understand that, sir," the second replied. "But he requested to speak with you immediately. He… said it was about your alchemy."_

 _Roy felt every last ounce of color drain from his cheeks as he was reminded of the corner he and Riza were being backed into. With every passing moment, the exposure of Riza's back and the threat that was looming over them became more critical._

" _Boss." With his thoughts broken, Roy looked around and toward his Second Lieutenant. Seeing that he had his Roy's attention, Havoc quietly continued, "We'll take it from here. You go do what you need to and we'll meet you there."_

 _Roy hesitated as he looked from Havoc to Riza and then to the back of the vehicle, where he could see Second Lieutenant Breda and Warrant Officer Falman hunched over Edward, the two of them meticulously splinting and securing the suspected fracture in Edward's leg._

 _Roy's stomach twisted when he felt something clutch and gently tug on the sleeve of his uniform jacket. When he looked down at Riza, she looked up at him, her expression a mixture of worry and fear._

 _She didn't have to speak for him to know what she was saying; after all, they had known each other long enough to know the other's thoughts, simply by the way they looked at the other. And at that moment she was asking him not to go._

 _But that wasn't an option. Not with the secrets of Flame Alchemy, and more importantly her life, hung in the balance. Because if he gave away its location, then her life would be in danger._

 _And he would not let that happen…_

" _Havoc," he addressed the Second Lieutenant, "Make sure my jacket stays on her. Keep her as warm as you can."_

" _Yes, sir," his subordinate replied as he draped an arm around Riza's shoulders and pulled the jacket closer to her body._

 _Looking back down at her, he gave her a small, reassuring smile. You know I have to investigate this. You know what is at stake…_

 _The corners of her lips turned downward. Please… Don't be reckless. Her eyes were pleading, begging him to tread carefully._

 _Pulling his sleeve away from her fragile grasp, he gave her one last look before turning away and following the waiting soldier. Feeling her eyes on the back of his head as he tromped along behind the Sergeant, he silently hoped that she understood his signal._

 _That he would not be reckless… Not unless the situation called for it._

* * *

" _We've secured him in one of the cells, sir," the soldier noted as he walked around a corner and headed down a narrow, poorly lit corridor. "He had no weapons on him, though we did find knives and tools in one of the rooms nearby. Investigations is already sweeping the room and picking out evidence," he added._

 _Roy's stomach churned with anger, remembering the cuts he saw on Riza's back before he covered it with his jacket. Though he had only gotten a brief look, he had at least been able to determine that whatever had cut her had managed to dissect down to the top muscle layer on her back. The amount of attention it would require was likely to be significant._

" _We're here, sir."_

 _Roy stopped behind the soldier and peered past him and into the small containment cell they had paused in front of. The man in question was sitting cross-legged on the floor, his hands folded neatly in his lap and his head bowed, allowing his long, greasy dark hair to spill over his shoulders and hang over his face._

" _Thank you," Roy replied as he stepped around the soldier and glared at the form that was sitting hunched over in the center of the cell. Without looking back at the soldier, he added, "Unlock the door."_

 _The soldier stiffened. "Sir?"_

" _Unlock the door, soldier. I would prefer to speak with this man face-to-face."_

" _But, sir—"_

" _That's an order," Roy replied, his eyes never leaving their prisoner._

 _The soldier swallowed nervously and saluted before replying, "Y-yes, sir." Reaching into his pocket, he produced a set of keys and skittered over to the lock. After fumbling with it for a few moments, he finally slid the key into its hole and twisted it, popping the lock open._

 _When he slipped it off and stood back, Roy stopped in front of the door and said, "Wait around the corner until we have finished speaking."_

" _But, sir—"_

" _If he values his life he won't try anything," Roy interrupted as he reached into the pockets of his coat and rubbed the fabric of his ignition gloves between his fingers._

 _Seemingly understanding his rationale, the soldier nodded hastily and saluted again before turning on his heels and heading back in the direction they had come from._

 _When the soldier had vanished around the corner, Roy turned his attention back to their prisoner, whose head was still hanging low. Steeling his resolve, Roy grasped the glove and pulled it out, slipping it on over his fingers before repocketing his hand. Pushing the door open with his other hand, he stepped inside, which elicited a light chuckle from the accused._

" _Hello, Colonel," the ring leader purred as he raised his head, his dark eyes finding Roy's. "Thank you so much for heeding my request."_

* * *

"Colonel."

Roy jumped as the unexpected voice pulled him from his memory and brought him back to the present. Slightly dazed, he looked up at the doctor who had addressed him, realizing too that he had stopped just outside Edward's room.

Seeing that he had his attention, the doctor dipped his head and said, "We just gave him a second dose of pain medication but it may take a little while before it reaches its full effect, so don't be surprised if he's irritable. The type of fracture he sustained can be very painful."

Roy swallowed, hoping to push back the feeling of regret that had begun to steadily climb his throat. The injury would likely keep Edward bedridden for two months, and that was _if_ he was able to stay down and not damage it further.

"Colonel?"

When he looked back up and saw the doctor watching him, he nodded to convey his understanding of both the situation and Edward's condition.

Accepting his silent agreement, the doctor stepped out of the way and pushed the door open, allowing Roy access. As he took a step toward the room, the doctor added, "You have ten minutes to visit, Colonel. After that, I would like to give Mr. Elric his rest." Again Roy nodded before he turned away and stepped completely into the room.

Focusing his attention on the bed that was on the opposite end of the room, Roy saw that the young blond teen was propped up on a set of pillows and was staring down at the IV that was placed in his arm.

When Roy began to move toward him, the youth looked up at him and his eyes instantly narrowed.

"How are you feel—"

"Don't give me that crap," Edward interrupted as he scrunched his eyes even more and clenched his teeth. "You know damn well how I'm feeling."

Attributing the boy's aggression to the pain he was likely experiencing, Roy brushed off his initial shock and said, "I know that this is going to be a challenging time, Fullmetal, but I want you to know that we've gathered the best team of doctors to—"

Again he was cut off as Edward winced and grabbed the cast on his leg with his flesh hand. "I don't need any special doctors or whatever," he growled. "What I need is an explanation for what I saw back there."

Roy's chest tightened and a feeling of uneasiness rolled over him as he remembered the resentful glare he had received from the youth for the brief moment he had turned his attention away from Riza. Those eyes had been so spiteful; so full of hate and loathing.

Roy knew all too well the promise he had made Riza in regards to keeping the tattoo's existence a complete secret. After restricting and paying off the doctors and nurses that worked on her with cash he had sequestered from his funds over time, he finally felt confident that they would be able to sweep its existence under the rug yet again.

One thing he did not do, however, was devise a way to curb the boy's interest in it.

Still, the East City Military Hospital was no place to discuss such a matter, especially on one of its busiest floors.

"Fullmetal," he began slowly, calmly. "I know you have some concerns, but you shouldn't jump to conclusions based on what you may or may not have seen—"

"Don't act like I'm stupid, Mustang. You know exactly what I saw," Edward counter. "So don't try to sweet talk your way out of this, because I know what I saw. And what I saw were your notes for Flame Alchemy embedded on the Lieutenant's back."

And there it was. Roy knew that the accusation would come, but he never imagined just how much of an abrupt impact Edward's words would have on him. Because no matter how one could look at it, it _did_ look like those were his notes on Riza's back. And in a way, he supposed, they were his notes…

"So you aren't denying it," the youth growled when Roy did not immediately produce a counterargument. "I know that you've done some pretty despicable things, Mustang, but this is by far the most disgusting," Edward growled as he tightened his grip on the cast. "Was that little black book of yours not secure enough for your precious notes? Or were the names of fake women and imaginary dates not enough to keep them all hidden?"

"Fullmetal," Roy began, trying to keep his voice quiet and even. "Now is not the time to start to start throwing accusations like this around. You don't understand—"

"Don't understand what," Edward shot back venomously. "Don't understand whatever twisted little contract you made with her?"

" _I have to know… How did you get your subordinate to agree to you doing that?"_

Roy pushed back on the sudden influx of memories from his discussion with the ring leader that Edward's words had induced, trying not to allow them to interfere with his escalating conversation with the boy. Shaking them off, he tried to contend with the increasingly irritable teen. "Fullmetal, _listen_ to me—"

"Did you pay her? Manipulate her," Edward accused, his volume rising with every word he spat. "Force her?!"

" _I had heard you had a silver tongue, but I never could have imagined you would use it in such a horrendous way…"_

Roy's jaw tightened and he clenched his hands, remembering how tauntingly the man had said those words. Unclenched his hands. Clenched his trembling hands…-

Fighting back the guilt, pain, anger he had felt when he had been accused by the ring leader, Roy raised his voice and gasped, "Edward! Listen to me!"

"How long did it take?! Did you even give her the chance to back out?!"

" _It's something I had never thought of. What a perfect way to hide your secrets,_ _ **you monster**_ _. Using human flesh like your own personal—"_

"-Book?! Is that all she is to you?! Just your own twisted version of a black book to keep your secr—"

Edward's face suddenly turned away, exposing the reddening cheek Roy's hand had created when it made sudden contact with it moments before. His once hardened eyes now wide with shock, Edward stopped mid-tirade to process what had just occurred.

Realizing what he had done, Roy drew the guilty hand back and reached forward with the other, taking a hurried step toward Edward. "Fullmetal, I—"

He didn't have a chance to apologize, however. With a savage yell, Edward turned and lunged forward and swung his flesh arm at Roy, barely missing the Colonel's face before he lost his balance and began to fall from the edge of the bed.

Reacting on instinct, Roy rushed forward and managed to break the youth's fall before he hit the ground, and was promptly rewarded with a fist to the jaw.

Drawing back, Roy's hands intuitively went up to protect his face as the relentless teen took another swing at him. But when Edward tried a fourth time, he was separated from Roy as a flurry of scrubs and white coats descended upon them.

As the doctors grabbed a dazed Roy beneath his arms and tried to lift him, Edward snarled, "You bastard. It's all _your_ fault."

His fault… No one could have predicted what had happened. Despite everything they did, spending every waking moment searching for them, it still took _five_ days to find them. And every moment they were gone, Roy had kicked and castigated himself until he became nothing more than an apparition, simply existing until the intel that guided his team to them reached his ears. In the end… Maybe it was his fault…

"Fullmetal—"

"You're the reason why," Edward continued, his voice catching momentarily in his throat as the nurses and staff tried to secure him and lift him back toward the bed. "Why she told me to mutilate and kill her…"

 _"I shouldn't have let him talk me into it. I should have just convinced him to leave me behind. He would have moved faster without me."_

As Riza's words returned to Roy, he finally understood the root of the boy's rage. It wasn't just the fact that he had discovered the notes for Flame Alchemy on her back. Rather, it was because she had asked him to leave her behind; an implication he _knew_ would have led to her death. And though he would not be directly responsible, Edward would have gone on knowing this fact.

The burden, the weight on his mind, was crippling.

Looking back up at and catching the boy's eye, he saw brimming golden eyes staring back; Edward's expression reflecting his disgust and anger and hurt.

 _Now_ Roy understood…

* * *

 **A/N:** _I'm not too entirely sure how I feel about this chapter. I'm not sure if I conveyed precisely why Roy reacted the way he did because most of the internalized feelings he has will be explored in the final chapter (aka next chapter). For now I have only shown glimpses of what had happened with the "ring leader" – whose whereabouts will be confirmed next chapter. At the same time, I hope his actions weren't too incredibly OOC because he isn't one to use physical force so readily (although he did when Edward confronted him about Maria Ross…). I don't know. Let me know if anything seems OOC and I may go back and tweak the chapter a bit. But thank you for all the reviews, favorites, and follows, and if I decide I don't hate this chapter, I'll see you for the final one!_

 _P.S. To those who follow "Like Family," I will have a new chapter up_ very _soon._


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N:** _I'm sorry this took so long! Life and lack of motivation got the best of me. But now it's finally finished! I know it's kind of left open-ended, but this is the final chapter. I'm still unsure whether I like it or not, or if I covered all the bases, so if you feel that any characterizations are wrong or certain parts are rushed, please let me know! I hope you enjoy nonetheless!_

* * *

The creak of bedsprings and the sensation of his mattress depressing slightly slowly aroused Edward's senses, and he tried to make sense of why that could be. The moment he realized that it signified something, or someone, was beside him rocked him from his sleep. With a gasp he jolted upright, fist raised and ready to fight. The 'disturbance' jumped and drew away. He stopped his gratuitous assault when he recognized his assailant and blinked a few times to verify before muttering her rank under his breath.

Hawkeye's face softened and she leaned forward, pressing her palm against the bed as she resettled herself on it. "I'm sorry to wake you so abruptly, Edward. How are you feeling?"

He blinked a few times, his eyes trying to adjust to the meager amount of light that was pouring in from the room's window. They slid away from her for a moment to focus on it, noticing that the light was natural. Moonlight. With a soft groan, he edged himself up on the pillows he had been propped up on before, reaching up to rub his eyes with his flesh hand. "As good as I _can_ feel, I guess," he admitted groggily.

"I'm happy to hear that," she replied quietly.

As he pulled his fist away from his eye, it suddenly dawned on him that he hadn't seen her since they were found. Remembering how close she had been to losing consciousness, he eyed her with newfound worry and murmured, "And what about you? How's your…" He trailed off, as though uttering the word would bring about unwarranted thoughts about that place.

But instead of showing any signs of hurt or discomfort, she nodded and offered him a small smile. "I'm a bit sore, but otherwise alright."

Edward swallowed and nodded. "I'm… glad to hear."

She closed her eyes and nodded, and a small sigh of relief escaped her.

"Yeah…" He exhaled and looked down, curling the fingers of his flesh hand around the thin hospital sheet he had been covered with, ignoring the dull ache in his side that had been a constant since he had been abruptly torn from his sleep. There was no denying that the air of concern held with it a faint, uncomfortable tinge with it. Edward knew that the conversation that would likely ensue would be far deeper than the superficial pleasantries they had exchanged. Something that needed to be immediately addressed.

Something moved out of the corner of his eye and his heart jumped. He jerked his flesh arm up to shield himself from the second supposed threat. His surprised yell caught in the back of his throat when he recognized the familiar outline of the person at the foot of his bed. His chest tightened as his eyes adjusted to better accommodate the darkness, and he confirmed who he was seeing. Edward's shock quickly turned to fury, and he drew his lips back. "You," he snarled, narrowing his eyes as the Colonel stepped closer to better reveal himself. "What are _you_ doing here?"

"Edward, please," Hawkeye murmured beside him. "Allow us to explain."

Momentarily turning his attention away from the Colonel, Edward's eyes snapped over to Hawkeye, and his heart sank. She was sitting with her back to him, her hand raised and clutching the front of her scrub blouse. Her almost serene demeanor had vanished and she appeared anxious. Almost terrified. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath, taking those few moments to herself before she exhaled. Hawkeye opened her eyes and peered over her shoulder at him, her eyes devoid of the faint glow he had seen in them before. "What you saw before," she continued, "Was only part of the array. For you to truly understand this, I feel that you need to see it in its entirety."

He swallowed. See it… in its entirety? He knew that what he had seen before was only a small portion of it, with the salamander being the most telling part of the design. But he already knew that it was still different from what was stitched onto Mustang's gloves. The two serpents he had seen being one of the most significant changes, leading him to believe that it was more than just the array that was on her back. Instead, he suddenly found himself wondering just how detailed the image was, thirsty to know what more there could have possibly been.

"That's why we are here," she explained. "Because we believe that you more than anyone will at least understand."

Understand? If she hadn't been there, Edward likely would have laughed. His immediate thought was how he could even possibly understand what Mustang had done. He was an ethical scientist who followed the unwritten laws of science to a 'T.' His notes? Coded and bound in a journal he kept on his body or very well hidden at all times. To think that he could possibly understand was ludicrous, absurd. Edward forced himself to swallow his disgust in order to listen. Not for Mustang, but for her. "Yeah…"

Hawkeye straightened herself, brows knitting together. "Edward…" she replied, her tone more asking than telling.

He realized that his voice hadn't been as strong as he had intended for it to be, cracking beneath the strain of the conversation that had not even occurred yet. Edward cleared his throat and gave her question a sharp nod. "Yeah," he answered with a tad more certainty. "I'll… I'll listen."

She nodded. Turning away from him, she lifted her hands and tugged at her blouse.

Edward turned his eyes away out of respect, staring down at his flesh fist. Despite the fact she had invited him to look at it, he had learned to respect a woman's body. It felt wrong, dirty, allowing him to see her in that state.

"Fullmetal…"

Feeling a pang of anger blossom in his chest, Edward eyes darted up to find Mustang's. He remained stone-faced as he was when confronted with a difficult situation, not too unlike his dealings with Edward after a confrontation where they were unable to find resolution or see eye-to-eye. But instead of the hardened glare he oftentimes held unwavering in his stare, his eyes instead reflected in them a deep sadness. "Please," he continued, "Allow us to explain before you jump to any further conclusions."

He bit his tongue after impulsively jumping to ignoring what the Colonel requested but then quickly reminded himself that Hawkeye was the second, and in his eyes more important, piece to this ever-growing puzzle. Edward huffed and turned away from him, and within moments his eyes were immediately drawn to what he had been so quick to avoid. The blouse was completely gone, pulled around her body and clutched against her chest. Beneath the faint glow of the moonlight he could see lines of red intermingled beneath blonde strands of hair. He clenched his fist, admonishing his immediate thought to reach up and brush her hair away to see it better. Edward began to lean away but froze when Mustang shifted beside him, wordlessly took her hair in his hands.

As though she had sensed his eyes, Hawkeye murmured, "What you see before you are the secrets of Flame Alchemy, Edward. Or rather… What remains of it."

Out of the corner of his eye, Edward saw Mustang flinch. However, once he was looking at it, he found that he was then unable to pull his eyes away from the intricate array that had been engraved onto her back, absorbed by its complexity. Now he found himself drawn to it, much like a moth to flame. Leaning forward, he pressed his hand against the bed to get a better look at it.

What he had seen before was the salamander and the two serpents that entwined themselves around the array that he had known because of the Colonel's ignition gloves. But now that he could see the rest of it, the extent of it. The marking covered the entirety of her upper back and onto her neck from what he could tell. Though it was still too dark to see it in complete clarity, it appeared to him that the ink was homogenous, the same radiant red he remembered catching a glimpse of and noting seeing before, because he distinctly remembered thinking how rare red ink was and how difficult it was to come by. He jumped slightly when Mustang took a step forward and gathered her hair in his hands again, sweeping it over her shoulder so that Edward could get a better look.

And that's when he noticed them for the first time. Deep, ugly scars were sprinkled around the array, the ink that should have completed the array gone, taking with them whatever secrets there had been before. Edward squinted at them, mentally tracing along their rough edges. They were too coarse to be wounds from blades, and while they were precise, they weren't as precise as if someone had applied something corrosive to them. He nervously licked his lips as he narrowed down what they could be in his mind to one conclusion: Burns. They were nothing to be overlooked or disregarded. Though he didn't have the luxury of lighting to better trace along them with his eyes, he could at least make out enough of their details to determine that they ran deep. Likely third-degree if he had to guess. Meaning that they had destroyed every layer of her skin.

"By now you probably have an idea of what you see in front of you," he heard Hawkeye murmur. Something in his peripheral vision shifted and he blinked, drawn from his thoughts, as she slipped the cloth top over the burns and array, concealing it from him once again. Bunching it up in the front, she turned slightly to look at him with a hollow expression, neither reflecting sadness nor concern. Just… emptiness.

"Flame Alchemy is a relatively new art, having only been developed within the past few decades. It's a rigorous and mentally exhausting form of alchemy that takes years to perfect and even longer to master." When Edward impulsively turned his gaze toward Mustang, Hawkeye shook her head and beckoned his attention back to her again. Torn between wanting to stare Mustang down and respecting her wishes, he begrudgingly chose the latter and focused on her again. And once she saw that, she shook her head and said, "The Colonel was not the one who gave me these secrets. Instead, he was the one that received them from me."

Edward felt the blood that had pooled in his cheeks void itself from them, and suddenly he felt very cold. He turned to Mustang for clarification, but saw that the Colonel was too preoccupied watching the Lieutenant's back. As though he felt Edward's eyes on him, he blinked and tore his eyes away from the array, turning them downward and away from Edward's gaze.

"When I was a child," Hawkeye continued, "My father was researching the science of fire, and how one could come to possess control over it. What started as a research endeavor quickly developed into an obsession, to the point where he would lock himself away in his study for days at a time without food or water. I knew that his studies were consuming him, much like the flames he had been seeking to control. It took many years and countless hours, but he finally completed it. But it took a massive toll on his health and his negligence caused his body to grow very weak. Sometimes he was even too weak to teach the student he took on."

Edward saw the Colonel stiffened out of the corner of his eye, lips pressing together at the mention of the Lieutenant's father's apprentice. Though he had figured it out after hearing the beginning of the Lieutenant's explanation, it was still surreal to see the Colonel indirectly admit his connection to her. He had always had an underlying belief that they had known each other for a long time – even beyond Ishval. But the connection was never made clear to him. Hell, Edward was fairly confident that the rest of the team didn't know how deep their connection ran. But now that he was learning it, the pieces and puzzles he had collected over the years slowly began to come together to begin to form a more complete picture of the relationship between them.

"You're probably wondering how it ended up on my back, and even I myself wonder that sometimes too…" She took a moment to pause and collect her thoughts, taking a deep breath before she would continue. Edward watched as her shoulders rose and fell as she exhaled, her momentary change in posture once again bending into a slouch. "There were and still are many people who would go to great lengths to acquire it – some would even commit murder in order to obtain his valuable research. So he decided that pen and paper would be too risky to use when recording it."

Edward's eyes darted over to the Lieutenant's then covered back, outlining the lines and symbols that still sat vaguely in his head. A pen and paper were too risky. So instead… "So he used _you_ in place of it," he gasped.

A pained expression crossed Hawkeye's face and she pressed her lips together, and Edward immediately regretted his small outburst. It was clear to him that the memories, though as old as or older than the scars he had seen, they still ran deep.

With a nod, she closed her eyes and said, "Yes. He approached me with the idea once his final student left. Fearing that it would fall into the wrong hands if it were as easily accessible as a book, he asked if I would protect the secrets for him."

"But… How he could he do that to you? To his own daughter," he uttered. It was difficult, almost impossible, for him to think about even contemplating doing that to someone, much less _wanting_ to. He had essentially _branded_ her with secrets so powerful that she could never hope to lead a normal life. Always fearing that she would be pursued for those secrets. Always afraid that someone could possibly see them. He could not even fathom how terrified she must have been when they were taken. When she realized what they were after, knowing full well that they were there on her back and easily accessible to them. Or at least… most of the notes were.

"I agreed to it," she answered, drawing him out of his thoughts. Looking back up at her, he saw her give him a genuine, albeit small, smile in reassurance. "I accepted the secrets and allowed him to bestow them on me."

Edward's jaw slackened and he nearly had to lift his hand to push it up again. She had _consented_ to it? All of it? His eyes flickered down to her back again, bewildered by her response. "But didn't it hurt? Why would anyone agree to something like that?"

"I did it because I believed in change, Edward," she answered with an even tone. "That by having total control over those secrets, I would be able to give them to someone I trusted. Someone I knew would use them to change the world."

She believed… His eyes wandered away from the stark white back of the hospital gown she wore and back to Mustang. By then, however, the older man had turned his eyes away from Edward's gaze. He knew that gaze, or at least understood its magnitude. Mustang had been transported back to when he had used flame alchemy to cause 'change.' Only… it wasn't the change she nor he wanted. Edward only knew bits and pieces of stories detailing what had happened in Ishval, though most of them were too vague for him to fully comprehend what had happened there. What he did know, though, was that Mustang had come away with the illustrious title of 'Hero of Ishval,' something he resented every single time it had been uttered toward him in passing.

"Unfortunately," she continued, drawing his attention toward her once more, "I was naïve in believing that change would only be positive." Edward saw Mustang shift uneasily out of the corner of his eye, but the Lieutenant pressed on. "After the war, I requested that they be removed from my back. That every single trace of evidence of them be destroyed so that there would be no more Flame Alchemists."

The images of the scars that marred the engraving on her back flashed through Edward's mind, and he slowly began to understand. "So that means…" His words tapered off, eyes wandering up to Mustang as the latter pursed his lips together. He could see the regret in his eyes, the dread rolling off of him palpable enough for Edward to detect.

"That's right," Hawkeye finished softly. "I asked the Colonel to remove the secrets of Flame Alchemy from my back so that he would remain the one and only flame alchemist."

Despite knowing the revelation was coming, Edward found that hearing it in her own words was far more horrifying than what he could have possibly pieced together in his mind. She had asked Mustang to deface her back – _burn bits of it beyond recognition_ \- so that the burden she carried would no longer be as accessible to the world as it had been to him. And he had obliged, burning her to the point where Edward was comfortably confident she had sustained third-degree burns.

The very thought of such a pact was chilling, and Edward had to suppress the shudder it induced.

"But… I still hold the belief that this alchemy can bring about change… for the better."

Edward, drawn from his thoughts, raised his eyes to see that she was watching him, her light smile radiant in the pale moonlight that continued to pour into the otherwise empty hospital room. His brows knitted together, and she the corners of her lips lifted further upward.

For the first time that night her smile seemed brighter. Almost hopeful. Maybe it was that or the way she had uttered those words, because suddenly Edward felt hopeful too. Despite his brief glimpse of what had happened from the moment needle touched flesh to the very moment they had been taken, she still believed that the secrets she had shared could be used for the betterment of Amestris. "You still think," he repeated back slowly, "That after everything that's happened, that it is still good."

"Yes," she answered with a nod before she turned her eyes toward the Colonel. A spark danced amidst them; a momentous, fleeting conversation passing between them that could only be understood by the other. "I still believe that Flame Alchemy has the potential to be used for good."

 _For good_ … The one who would be using it 'for good' had hardly spoken, and Edward looked toward him. Like so many times since Edward had been awoken, the Colonel's attention was focused on Hawkeye. It was a curious reversal of roles, in which one had changed from the watcher to the one who was in control, and vice versa. It was then too that he realized that that was how it had always been: in which she had the final say for how it would be used. That only spurred more questions in Edward's mind, and he found himself wanting to ask in order to understand. But he knew that it was not the place nor the time. That time that night was merely for him to understand the reason behind their actions; the reason behind their intertwined, complicated history.

A hand settled on her shoulder and Edward's eyes snapped over to it, following it up to its owner. The Colonel's eyes had softened considerably, and the worry and fear he had seen before in the Lieutenant's had vanished, and another silent conversation only they understood passed between them. This time, however, Edward did not immediately turn his eyes away. Instead he briefly watched their exchange, accounting for all of the subtle signals they shared that he had noticed over the years. But now that he had learned their past on a far deeper plane, he at last understood the significance of every glance and movement. And, more importantly, he finally began to understand the reason Hawkeye had asked him to destroy the notes.

The guardianship of those notes ultimately fell on her shoulders, and introduction to anyone other than those they believed could keep them a secret would lead to ruin. His eyes wandered down to his flesh hand. He flexed his fingers and curled them into a fist again as he replayed the memory in his mind. Her fear of them being further interpreted had been palpable. Even then the thought brought with it the faint tinge of iron. Edward bit his tongue and pushed back the nausea it induced, reminding himself that it hadn't come to that. But even if it had, would he have done it, not knowing its twisted, complicated past? Or… Would he have done it if he did know the history behind it?

He shook his head and dismissed the thought, deciding that it wouldn't have come to that either way. It would be just the same as what had ultimately played out: He wouldn't have left her behind and would not, under any circumstances, allow her to fall into their hands again.

"I'm so sorry, Edward."

He jumped slightly and lifted his eyes, and was met by her apologetic smile. Realizing she had interrupted his thoughts, she shook her head and said, "You now know the reason I asked you to destroy these secrets, but before this moment you had no clue the history or reason I wanted them gone. It was an enormous weight to put on you so suddenly."

He took a moment to steal a glance toward Mustang again to find that, for once since they had approached him, his eyes and attention were focused on Edward. Edward had always prided himself with the fact that he had grown accustomed to deciphering the hidden meanings behind the Colonel's expressions. If there were any underlying thoughts he wanted the one receiving them needed to see, they would see them. And at that moment he could see behind the impassive veil Mustang had used to mask his emotions the faintest blend of regret and concern. He knew, however, that not all of that regret was targeted at him. Behind those dark eyes the scenes of that fateful night when he inflicted those irreparable marks on her skin and array were playing over and over again, reminding him that what he left behind could still be interpreted by the well-trained eye. And because of that their struggle to keep Flame Alchemy in the hands of the 'good' continued, and would continue until the day they would die.

"No… It's okay," he answered as he slowly directed his focus toward Hawkeye again. "Now that I understand everything I can see why you said what you did. You don't need to apologize for wanting to do what was right."

A small frown found its way to her lips. "That still doesn't excuse my rash decision to ask for such a thing," she said softly.

To that Edward shook his head and offered her a faint smile. "But what matters now is that we're okay… for the most part," he added lightly as he gestured toward his casted leg. The corners of her lips twitched, and for a moment he saw the ghost of that familiar Hawkeye smile.

The Colonel took a step forward, a sense of urgency in his movement, briefly interrupting the solidarity that had sprung between them. "You realize what you saw and heard here tonight, you must never reveal to anyone." Mustang's words were more a strong suggestion rather than a simple question or statement.

"Yeah…" he answered with a more serious tone as his eyes met Mustang's. "I know."

The fleeting moment of tension dissipated and relief flashed across their faces, and he couldn't help but feel a swell of honor in his chest as the gravity of what they revealed to him finally sank in. They took what could possibly be the deepest, most intimate secret they shared and trusted him with it. And from what he could tell, they had given him all that they could afford to give. It was something that could change the course of military or even Amestrian history, and they had allowed him inside so that he could understand. He knew that it was, for the most part, built on the trust that had mutually grown betwixt them the two years they had known each other.

Although…

He had found himself lying awake for the remainder of that night, staring up at the ceiling as their words and his thoughts intermingled until the sun's rays peeked through the window and crept across the floor to the edge of his bed. Restfulness finally found him after Alphonse appeared for a visit, the sense of security his brother's presence instilled in him being enough to lull him to sleep, albeit a fitful one.

Their smiles were genuine and their words sincere, but something still dug at Edward's intuition, and remained to do so the moment they left. Because despite their clarification, his mind couldn't help but wander to those who may have discovered the array past or present, whether coincidentally or intentionally, and whether or not they were treated in the same manner that he had…

* * *

 _The air stunk with the acrid scent of charred flesh, and Roy had to fight his involuntary, primitive urge to gag in favor of maintaining his impassive façade. The story he would tell came naturally to him, as though it were crafted from reality._

 _His eyes slowly began to readjust to the murky dark of the temporary imprisonment they had held the supposed renegade leader. They wandered along the scorched outline of the corpse until they caught the faintest glint of metal that winked at him from beneath what he assumed had once been the man's jacket._

"She'll never be safe again."

 _Roy took a step closer to the near unrecognizable remains of the fiend and wrinkled his nose, pressing his fingers together again as a pulse of anger surged through his veins. Even when the man's life had been extinguished, he knew that his message would continue to plague him._

 _A warning… A declaration claiming that what he had discovered would have only been the beginning of a long, tortuous ordeal, with Riza at its center._

"My word will travel, and will continue to do so as long as I shall live. They will come for her secrets… and your life."

 _And her life as well._

 _His fingers slackened and he curled them into a fist. Relaxed them. Turned them into a fist again._

 _The moment he agreed to take those secrets he knew that his life would always be on the line. There would always be someone out there who would desire them and want them for themselves. A virtually unstoppable weapon like that falling into the wrong hands would be catastrophic. But one thing he refused to accept was that her life could be sought for as well._

 _He would not allow it._

 _He took a step back as the sound of boots beating against the cobblestone drew his attention back to the situation at hand. Shoving his hands into his pockets, he took a moment to mask his expression of disgust, trading it for a more impassive façade. He would allow the glean of the knife on the ringleader's person and his reportedly violent nature talk for the deceased._

 _All he needed now was to ensure that word of the leader's demise spread so that the others involved would receive his message. And if they still failed to understand, he would be sure that they too be silenced for good._

* * *

 **A/N:** Quick note since I had someone say they were confused by the ending of this chapter. The final scene is a flashback to the conclusion of the confrontation between Roy and the ringleader who sought the secrets of Flame Alchemy. His continued threat of exposing the secret of Riza's back to the world forced Roy to choose between allowing him to live and risk him telling anyone who would listen, or silencing him permanently to ensure that there would be one less person who knew where the secrets were.

If anything is still unclear, please let me know!


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